


we both lost count

by dumbkili



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Mute Frisk, Non-Binary Frisk, Spoilers - No Mercy Route, Spoilers - Pacifist Route, frisk uses sign language hell yeah, sans is a nerd who likes the stars, set directly after the pacifist run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbkili/pseuds/dumbkili
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk can't sleep, guilt weighing on them even after a flawless pacifist run. Sans can't sleep because the stars are out. Somehow, explanations happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we both lost count

Frisk is having a dream. In the dream, they’re underground. They have a knife. They look in the mirror, and they don’t think _Frisk_ , they think _Chara_. In the dream the knife drips red, and so do their hands. This does not make sense, because monsters do not bleed. But it’s a dream. So they allow themselves this small creative liberty. The sleeves of their sweater are dark red-brown and crusted over dry because it’s been so long since they washed it, since they stopped moving forward, since they let themselves take a break. Since Chara let them take a break.

It’s not a nice dream. And they would like very much for it to end.

They wake up in a dark bedroom, clawing at the covers until they fall away from their face and let the air inside their throat, and then they just lie there. It takes a while to orient themselves. It’s a bedroom, with a real bed and a real pillow and a real mattress, not a gross bus stop with seats that smell like dirt and rain and other humans. They tense up, because there’s two times that happens- before and after. If it’s after, they’re safe, they won, but if it’s before-

They can’t remember resetting since the last run, since they made it to the surface again.

Moonlight streams in through the window.

It’s after.

They relax, just the tiniest bit. It’s _after_. They did it. Well. More like they stopped doing it. Stopped letting Chara in. Stopped letting Chara make the rules, the decisions, the game plan.

_How many times, though?_ whispers a tiny little voice. It sounds like Chara used to, but they know that it isn’t. Chara isn’t with them anymore, and never will be again. _How many times did you let them tell you what to do? How many times did you kill them all, Frisk?_

__

Frisk doesn’t answer the voice, just yanks the covers back around themself. They’re cold all of a sudden.

_Do you even remember? Do you even care?_

__

They do. They do remember how many times there were. And they do care. They cared from the first time, and they cared until the last.

_That doesn’t make up for what you did_ , says the little voice. Now it sounds more like Asr- more like Flowey. Frisk pulls the blankets closer and curls inward, making a little ‘c’ shape in the corner of the bed.

They made it better, though. They’d reset, and finally, finally, _finally_ when they woke up, they hadn’t let Chara in. They hadn’t killed _anybody_ , not a single Froggit, not even Flowey himself. And everyone had made it to the surface. And it had all been okay.

_But then you reset again,_ reminds the voice smugly. Definitely Flowey, now. _You reset again and you reset again and again and again and again… because you had to get it perfect, didn’t you? You had to get it completely right before you were satisfied._

But it had been good! Nobody had gotten hurt! Nobody even knew! Frisk covers their ears with both hands, but it doesn’t help at all. These thoughts were born inside their own head, and there’s no way to block them out.

_Sans knew_ , whispers the voice.

Their eyes fly open. Sans knew. They can see him in their mind’s eye, exhausted looking, dodging left and right, one eye glowing bright blue.

_our reports showed a massive anomaly in the time-space continuum…_

__

How could they have forgotten that? They’d battled him hundreds upon hundreds of times, heard that same monologue over and over again… but they’d never really listened to it, had they? Chara had been filling up their head, buzzing around like an angry hornet, _kill kill kill kill kill._ No. They hadn’t listened at all.

Frisk sits up suddenly and swings their legs out of bed. They can’t do this right now. Can’t be alone with their thoughts like this. It always leads to bad things. Things like climbing Mt. Ebott, for example.

They tiptoe their way across the cheap motel room, nearly stooping down to grab the bisicle they left on the bedside table before they remember that they don’t have to constantly stock up on supplies anymore- nothing is going to hurt them, not in this timeline. Instead, they just tug on their old sweater. The sleeves are clean now. In fact, they were never dirty. Frisk runs their fingers over the material again and again, taking solace in the lack of dust coating it. They pull open the door and cautiously step out into the hallway.

They- Frisk and Toriel, Undyne and Alphys, Sans and Papyrus, and Asgore- have all rented rooms in a tiny motel at the base of the mountain, a squat little building with a squat little manager who was very obviously shaken by the sudden crowd of strange and monstrous guests when they arrived, but had nevertheless been impressively professional about the whole thing. It isn’t a _bad_ hotel- and Frisk has certainly slept in worse places- but it isn’t exactly the MTT, if you get the meaning.

They’re not really sure where they’re going. They’re not really sure that there is anywhere _to_ go. This is not the Underground. There is no Riverperson to take them place to place, and no helpful signs if they get lost.

Somehow, they end up in the parking lot. It’s empty of cars- there are no other guests at the hotel, tucked away on a backroad as it is, so close to the legendary mountain. Frisk walks aimlessly in a loop around the lot, hands in pockets. Then they do it again. Then they turn around and walk in a circle going the other direction. They take their hands out of their pockets and realize they are shaking.

_Sans knew._ They can’t tell if it is their own thoughts or Chara, back again, or the little voice that is neither. _Sans knew and he went through that fight again and again- you- I- we- Papyrus died again and again and Sans knew. And you knew. And I knew. And still we-_

__

“hey kid.”

They look up. Leaning over the roof of the hotel and looking down into the lot is Sans. The building is only two floors, so they can hear him fine.

[What are you doing?] they sign. He squints a little bit. They sign again, bigger and more exaggeratedly. He sighs.

“can’t see what you’re doing from way down there, kiddo. why don’t you just come on up?”

They hesitate. He misinterprets.

“if you don’t wanna take the stairs i can always-” he begins, and makes a vague gesture accompanied by a little spark of blue magic around his hand. Frisk thinks of being slammed against the walls of the Last Corridor and shakes their head vehemently, throwing in some _no_ 's in ASL for good measure. He looks at them strangely and says, “suit yourself.” Then he disappears, going away from the edge of the roof.

_Sans knows._

__

Everything has been fine up until now. Sans has seemed fine. Sometimes he was a little strange, sure. Sometimes he seemed to be right where he needed to be before he was even needed. But it hadn’t been weird. It had just been Sans. But now it makes sense. He knew because he had done it all before. And if Frisk doesn’t go up to the roof now… he’ll know that they know. And he’ll hate them. If he doesn’t already.

They go up to the roof. The stairs seem ridiculously long, the climb endless. At the top, right before the door opens to the outside, they are tempted to create a SAVE. Just in case something goes wrong. Just in case they have to… or if Sans…

They don’t create the SAVE. Somehow it would seem like a breach of trust. They open the door and step out.

Frisk sees Sans and tenses up, ready for any possibility but… He isn’t doing anything at all. He isn’t even facing them. All he’s doing is standing in the middle of the roof, hands deep in his sweatshirt pockets, looking up. Looking at the stars. He hasn’t noticed that they’ve arrived. They let the door click loudly as it closes behind them and he jumps, honest to God jumps, hopping a little bit out of place. His feet crunch against the gravel spread over the ground. He whips around and Frisk swears that they see a hint of magic glowing in his eyesocket, but it’s gone as soon as he sees them.

“jeez, kid,” he says, placing a hand on his chest. “you scared me half to death.”

[You’re already a skeleton], Frisk signs. He gives them another one of those looks.

“i’m also a monster. and any monster can die.” He goes back to looking at the stars. Frisk stares at him, waiting, their heart pounding in their chest. He didn’t invite them up here to give some half-assed attempt at dramatic irony and leave it at that. There’s gotta be something else he wants to say. After a couple beats of silence, he takes a breath. “i’ve never seen the actual stars before.”

That was not what they were expecting. They look at him some more, waiting for him to turn around so that they can sign a reply. But he doesn’t. He just keeps looking up.

“down in waterfall, we had pretend stars. you saw ‘em. they were nice enough, i guess. but eventually you can’t ignore the fact that the things you’re wishing on are only a hundred feet above your head.”

Frisk waits.

“buddy…” says Sans slowly, turning to face them. He’s smiling, but then, he’s always smiling. “these are so much better.”

Frisk waits. Sans sighs.

“i’m trying to be sincere here, frisk. this doesn’t happen often.”

Frisk can’t wait anymore.

[Do you know or don’t you?], they sign, perhaps a tad aggressively. Sans’ expression doesn’t physically change- it can’t, by definition of what he is- but somehow it shuts down anyway. He looks back up at the stars, but Frisk has had enough. They grab his unsurprisingly-yet-somehow-also-unexpectedly bone thin arm through his thick sweatshirt and turn him back around. [Do you or don’t you?], they repeat.

“kid. you don’t want me to answer that,” he says quietly. “hell, _i_ don’t want me to answer that.”

[I have to know], Frisk insists. [Say it].

Sans takes a huge breath in through the hole where his nose would be and lets it whistle out between his teeth. He looks down for a second and when he looks up, his eyes are a deep and empty black.

“fine,” he says. It’s the strangely flat, empty tone that he’s used on them before. “i do. i know. you happy? but i guess you’ve never really been happy, have you? you reset so much, after all.”

Frisk backs up a step. He doesn’t follow.

“i don’t know how many times,” Sans continues. “i don’t know how many times you’ve done it. maybe i did once, at the beginning, but i’ve definitely lost track now. don’t remember everything, either. memories… they’re like sand in a sieve. they slip right through.” He takes a hand out of his pocket and conjures up some blue dust, letting it slide through all the tiny bones in his hand before dissipating as it hits the ground. “one thing, though, is very clear in my mind. you. standing there. me. standing here.”

Frisk takes another step backwards. They can feel their SOUL, just under their sternum. It’s pushing outwards, getting ready for a battle to begin. They firmly press a hand over their chest, trying to keep it contained. They don’t want a fight. Not now.

“...and maybe it’s just ‘cause we did that so many times. because you were so determined. but it’s the one thing that i always remember.” Sans takes another breath and recites, “it’s a beautiful day outside…”

Frisk bends down and throws a rock at him. It misses, clattering to the floor two feet to the right of him, but it’s enough to cut him off.

[Not doing this again], they say, signing slowly and deliberately with no room for misinterpretation. [Don’t need to].

Sans squints at them confusedly. “why not now? we’re just gonna do it again as soon as you reset.”

[Don’t do it like that anymore], Frisk signs with suddenly shaky hands. [Not going to reset again]. Their hands fumble on the  _t_ in  _reset_ , their nervous hands too jittery to fold up correctly. They end up having to sign the same letter several times, trying to finish the word. R-e-s-e-t-t-t-t-t.

His smile seems to turn bitter. “see, you say that now, but who knows… maybe you won’t be as satisfied with this ending as you thought you’d be. maybe you’re too satisfied with it, even. how many times have we had this conversation, frisk? how many times do you keep living your perfect story?”

Frisk doesn’t answer.

“are you not saying anything because you don’t want to answer or because you really don’t remember?”

[I remember].

“oh.”

[If I say, you will just get mad].

“...oh.”

Frisk bites their lip, shifts their weight from leg to leg. [We have never done this].

“This conversation?”

Frisk nods. [This is the first time. Always reset before I even sleep].

Sans is quiet for a moment. Then his pupils flicker back into life and he looks up at the sky again. “...wow. so this really is the first time i’m seeing the stars.” He laughs a little bit. “i dunno how you did it, kid, but you’ve actually improved my mood.”

Frisk tugs on his sleeve and he turns back to them. [Still mad?]

“honestly? yeah. frisk. i don’t think i’m ever gonna not be mad. but i’m capable of feeling more than anger, you know?” His smile seems sincere again. “and you’re a kid. i can’t hold you responsible for everything. people attacked you, in those timelines, right? and you reacted.” Both of his pupils flick back to black for a second. “can’t say i would have reacted the same way, though.”

[C-H-A-R-A], Frisk spells. [Not just me. Chara did it too].

“...the...the first human? what- what do they have to do with this?” Sans stutters, and suddenly Frisk realizes that he doesn’t know everything after all.

[Paper?] they ask. It would take a really long time to sign all of this out. Sans shakes his head, then pulls out his cell phone.

“just make a note,” he suggests, and Frisk nods. Sans is so smart. They wouldn’t have thought to do that for a while.

While they type, Sans goes back to staring upwards. Occasionally he glances at Frisk, waiting to see if they’re done yet, or making like he’s going to say something. But he never actually does. The screen they’re typing on rapidly fills with text, some words misspelled because they can’t be bothered to go back and fix them (and also because they don’t even know the right way to spell some things). They’ve just haltingly and reluctantly typed out _Undyne was killed_ when Sans nudges them.

“hey, what’s that one called?” He points up at a collection of stars right above them, a sort of hourglass shape in the sky. Frisk scrunches up their face, trying to remember. They think they read it in a book once… _Constellations for Kids_ or something like that. But that had been a while ago. Back when they still had books. And a place to read them in. They shrug. Sans sighs, then says, “guess i’ll have to name it, then.” he looks at Frisk and they realize he’s teasing them. “kinda looks like mettaton. what’d’ya think, kiddo?” They giggle. They can’t help it. Then they put the phone in their pocket for a second.

[He’s a real star now], they sign, and Sans laughs, surprised.

“oh my god, you’re right,” he says, doubling over. “that was great, kid!”

Frisk lets themself feel proud for a second before they pull the phone back out. The sentence _Undyne was killed_ stares at them from the screen and they can nearly hear their smile shatter as it falls off their face and hits the floor. With shaking hands, they finish it. _Undyne was killed by me_. Sans notices the shift in mood.

“you don’t… you don’t _have_ to tell me,” he almost whispers. “i almost don’t really want you to.”

Frisk hesitates for a second more, then shakes their head and keeps on typing. Sans doesn’t look back up at the stars, just stares at them and waits. It takes them another ten minutes, but they finish it. It’s bare-bones (haha) minimum, and they left out some of the non-essential stuff, but it’s all there. The battle with Sans they had boiled down to just “We fought a lot. And mostly you won. but then i won.” Finally, they finish with Chara. How they tried to say no, at the end, every single time. They didn’t want to destroy the world. Never had. They can still remember how angry Chara had sounded when they hissed “ **What makes you think that you’re the one in control?** ” In the end, they just write “ _Chara reckd evrything. So i reset. And i tryed to make it better_.”

They look over the whole document. It’s bad. Both in content and in spelling. But it’s not going to get any better, so they just hand it off to Sans without another word. He’s clearly regretting asking for it now, but he’s also just a little bit curious. So he starts reading.

It only takes him a few minutes to read the whole thing, which is disproportionate to the amount of time that Frisk spent writing it. They watch him carefully, but he (as usual) doesn’t betray any emotion. When he’s done he lets out a tiny huff, too tiny to really be called a sigh, and tucks the phone back in his pocket. Then he looks back up at the stars.

Frisk stares at him. _This doesn’t make any sense. Why isn’t he yelling? Why isn’t he using magic? Getting angry? Why isn’t he-_

“can i ask you kind of a weird question?” Sans says suddenly. He looks at them. His smile is impassive. “how old even are you?”

Frisk gapes at him.

“because i kinda thought you were, like, at least thirteen, you know? but your spelling… and you’re kinda short…” Sans shrugs. “hey, what the hell. maybe i just didn’t wanna admit to myself that i got my ass handed to me by someone barely out of diapers.”

Frisk doesn’t respond for a second, just keeps staring. They’re not sure where this conversation is going. They don’t want to answer his question. They’re not certain that they can, to any degree of accuracy. Finally, they settle on just signing, [What’s your point?]

“the point is, kid, that the first human… chara… their soul was infinitely older than yours. more powerful, too. and no offense, but you didn’t have a chance against them once they’d got their claws in you. so all that shit- sorry, stuff- you did wasn’t your fault. you didn’t fight me all those times. chara did, using you.” Sans slings an arm around Frisk’s shoulders. “ya gotta stop blaming yourself for everything, kiddo. that shit ain’t healthy. stuff, sorry.” His weird side-hug on them tightens. “i do care about you, frisk. and i don’t care about much. remember when i said that i was always gonna be angry?” Frisk nods. “well. i’m still angry. but not at you, buddy. not after reading this.”

Frisk pokes him and he looks down at them, waiting. They bring their hand up to their forehead and then pull it back out, sticking out their thumb and pinkie at the end of the movement and leaving their three middle fingers folded down.

“‘why’?” Sans echoes. “i just told you why. it wasn’t your fault.”

[No. Why are you still angry?], Frisk corrects.

“oh. well. because someone messed with my pal, that’s why,” Sans says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “i’m mad because i didn’t get a chance to protect you, dude. i’m mad at all of those other me’s who didn’t even try. i’m mad at chara. but not i’m mad at you, frisk.” He looks back up at the sky. It’s getting pink around the edges as dawn approaches, and the stars are beginning to fade. “you don’t talk about yourself a lot, you know that? but i’m pretty smart. i can read between the lines. and i think that what you need right now is… i dunno. some good food, some bad laughs. a friend. someone who won’t be mad at you for things you can’t control.”

[But I kept resetting], protests Frisk, feeling the need to point it out even if they do have to spell ‘resetting’ letter by letter. [Even when I didn’t need to.]

“yeah. that’s true,” Sans allows. “but once it was just you… on your own… did you kill? without chara’s influence, did you kill anyone, any of those times?”

Frisk thinks back on all of the past runs they’ve done, and that’s when they realize that Sans is right. They haven’t killed anyone since the last time Chara had been in their head. [No], they sign. Sans looks faintly relieved.

“well, there you go then,” he says triumphantly, nearly lifting Frisk off the ground with the force of his hug. “see? what did i tell you, kid? you’re golden!”

And suddenly, everything seems like it’s going to be okay. The sun rises and before them, and the mountain is illuminated in brilliant yellow light. Twenty-four hours ago, practically to the minute, the barrier had been broken. Today, they are all going to go back into the mountain, and spread the news around to anyone who haven’t heard it yet. By this time tomorrow, the mountain will be empty, and monsters will exist on the surface again.

Frisk isn’t sure how any of it is going to work. Being ambassador. Being alone in their head. Not resetting. Being a kid again. They don’t know if they can do it and honestly, that was part of the reason that they kept going back. Resetting was familiarity. They knew all the steps to the dance- there were no surprises, no unexpected twists. Letting go of the underground and moving forward… now that was something that they had never before had the courage to do. Living like a normal person again and going through life day to day with no knowledge of what’s coming next is terrifying to them.

They think it might be a little scary for Sans, too.

But hey, what’s life without a tiny bit of fear?

Downstairs, they can both already hear Papyrus moving around, despite it being barely six a.m. Sans pulls his phone back out of his pocket, unlocks it, and looks over the note Frisk made again. Then, firmly and decisively, he deletes it.

“past is the past, kiddo,” he says, grinning. It seems sincere again. “but the future’s ours.” He takes one last look out at the golden mountain. The stars are barely even a memory in the sky above. “welp. better get back downstairs before pap and tori freak out about where we are.” He turns and begins walking in the exact opposite direction of the stairwell, towards the other end of the roof. “c’mon. i know a shortcut.”

Frisk grins, and follows.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [slams both my hands down on the table] I CAN'T BELIEVE IVE PLAYED UNDERTALE LIKE 6 TIMES AND THIS IS STILL MY FIRST FIC FOR IT AAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> literally this was just an excuse to have sans look at the stars because he is a #nerd and im gonna shove him in a locker plus i LIVE for older bro sans w little sib frisk lmao
> 
> also if i got something wrong with frisk's sign language please tell me!!!!!!!!!


End file.
